


Harry Potter and The Do Over Book: 1

by WhitePhoenix81



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Evil Albus Dumbledore, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Female Tony Stark, Good Loki (Marvel), Harry is a Little Shit, Ice Cream, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Revenge, Sassy Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29987022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhitePhoenix81/pseuds/WhitePhoenix81
Summary: In the year 2025, the world has gone down the drain. Harry has found a way to go back and fix things. But Harry can't do it alone. Bringing certain people to the year 2010, to the end of year feast of Harry's first year, maybe, just maybe, they will be able to prevent it from being destroyed. Fem!Tony. Dumbledore Bashing. Rated M just in case.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, James "Bucky" Barnes/Harry Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Loki/Natasha Romanov, Luna Lovegood/Thor (Marvel), Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	1. Prologue

Hariel Potter and the Do Over

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Also to avoid copyright, I will be only putting some of the lines from the books. I will also be changing/adding some of the events that happen in the books and movies. I will also be squeezing each of the books in one chapter.

Prologue

And so it begins

On October 31st, 2025 two figures stand over seven books, speaking in raised voices in order to be heard over the catastrophe of noise going on the floors above them. The Ravenette had emerald green eyes and was on the shorter side. This person’s name is Harry Potter. The blonde next to Harry had icy blue eyes, and her name was Daphne Greengrass. After the war, through a sequence of events, Harry and Daphne had become friends, and at this point in time, Daphne is the only friend that Harry has left. The rest, having been killed in the war, or in the aftermath.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Daphne asks her friend.

“Yes.” Harry says simply.

“If this works everything is going to change. You know this, right?” Daphne asks for clarification.

“All the more reason to do this.” Harry says with some of the old determination.

Both bring their wands up to their temples, extracting a glowing silvery substance. They combine them and then touch the seven books with the silvery substance one by one. With a bright light, the books were filled and the covers were titled and decorated.

֎֎֎֎֎֎

Eleven year old little Harry Potter sits at the Gryffindor table, for the Leaving Feast in the year 2010. Dumbledore was about to stand up to make the opening speech to the feast, when all of a sudden, the walls start to glow gold.

There was a bright flash of light, so bright that everyone had to shield their eyes until the light dissipated. When the light was gone a new group of people were in the hall. 

In this new group was, Madame Bones, Head of the DMLE, Auror Mad-Eye Moody, Remus Lupin, The rest of the Weasley Clan that wasn’t already at Hogwarts, Auror Shacklebolt and Auror trainee Tonks. They look around, taking in their surroundings, but before they could start demanding answers, two figures appear, wearing cloaks with their hoods up.

“I am Shadow Lightning, and my companion is Light Renewer. We have brought you all here. We are from the future. Fifteen years to be exact. We have brought with us seven books of what will happen if you do nothing. If you do not heed our warnings. Now before we hand over the books that you all will read together, we still need a few more people to join us. Know that the entire Great Hall is on lock-down. None may entire, and none may leave. Time has been stopped in this room, and lastly, no offensive magic may take place here, until all seven books have been read and our work has been finished here.” Shadow Lightning explained.

Shadow Lightning's cloak was black with a gold trimming, while Light Renewer's cloak, while still being black, had a silver trimming. Then they both disappeared before anyone could argue.

֎֎֎֎֎֎

In another part of the castle, the two figures from before along with five other people appeared in an unused classroom. James and Lily Potter, Frank and Alice Longbottom, and Frank’s mother Augusta Longbottom.

“James, where are we?! Where’s Harry?!” Lily’s distressed voice cried out.

“Lily? I don’t know.” James told his wife, trying to calm her, while trying to stay calm himself.

All five people started to yell in distress to one another. Light Renewer let’s off a shrill whistle to get all of their attention.

“If you all will calm down and let me speak, I can explain that.” Shadow Lightning says, “We brought you five here. James, Lily, we brought you two here a split second before you two were about to be killed. Frank, Alice, we brought you two here right before the Lestranges were about to torture you two. Augusta we simply brought you here from your home. James, Lily, Frank, Alice, we had brought you all a little more than ten and a half years into the future. We did this, so that you could all see and find out what your daughter and son grow up to be, and so that you could get to know them.”

“However, after the books that we have, detailing Harry’s, and by extension Neville’s, life are all read then, we will have to take you all back to where we got you.” Light Renewer picked up where Shadow Lightning left off.

The five all looked at one another, and the two couples looked at their spouses, and seemed to communicate silently.

“We understand. As long as we get to see our baby is well, and get to at least hear what kind of life Harry will have after we are gone.” Lily says, while the Longbottom’s nod along.

“I have a question. Who are you?” James asks.

“We are from the future. 15 years from this point in time, or 26 years from your time.” Light Renewer said.

“As for who we are?” Shadow Lightning asks as he steps forward, and then lowers the hood of the cloak, revealing long curly, black hair and emerald green eyes. While the other person does the same, to reveal long blonde hair and ice blue eyes.

“Her name is Daphne Greengrass. My name is Harry Potter.” Harry says with tears in those emerald green eyes.

“Prongslet?”, “Bambi?” James and Lily whisper. They take a step forward, hands reaching and tears in their eyes, but stop. Waiting for Harry to confirm, which they get with a nod, and a watery smile. The Potters share a group hug. When they let go, Harry tells her parents more in-depth of what’s going on, but if they want to know anything about the life that Harry has/will lead, they will have to find out with everyone else.

They agree to go along with their plan and to keep their identities a secret. As they are about to leave, James chuckles and says, "I am so proud of you. Pranking everyone like this.”

֎֎֎֎֎֎

In another flash of light, Shadow Lightning and Light Renewer reappear, bringing with them five more people.

“James? Lily?” Remus asks in disbelief with a hopeful look on his face.

“Hey, Remy!” James exclaims with a wide smile, as the two old friends hug.

“How, how are all here?”

“These two brought us here from our time. So that we can get to know our child in this time. After that, we will be sent back.” James explained.

“Where’s Harry? Where’s my baby?”, “Neville? Where’s my Neville?” Lily and Alice ask as they look around the hall trying to find their children. James and Frank start  
looking around too. Out of the corner of their eyes they see a bushy haired girl nudge a raven haired, green eyed, eleven year old boy, next to her. With a slightly pudgy, blonde hair, blue eyed boy sitting next to him. They turn towards the Gryffindor table as both the raven haired boy and the blonde boy stand up. The group and the children walk towards each other, and then all of a sudden, the Potters and the Longbottom’s crouch in front of their respective children and pull them into a three way hug.

When James and Lily hugged Harry, Harry had stiffened up, like a plank of wood. There were several people who took note of this. James and Lily among them.  
After a couple minutes, the two reunited families separated from the hugs.

“Hang on, where’s Sirius?” James asks.

The adults in the room share grim looks that the Potters don’t miss.

“James, Sirius was put into Azkaban.” Remus informs James.

“What?! Why?!”James exclaims.

“Well, he was your Secret Keeper, and he blew up a street. He killed twelve muggles and Peter.” Remus says. Thinking and looking at them as if James and Lily should already know the first part.

“Okay. Stop. First off, Sirius was NOT our Secret Keeper. Peter was. Second, I bet you anything that Sirius had gone to confront Peter. And thirdly, I want to see Sirius’ trial transcripts. I don't trust Crouch Sr. one bit.” James informs the entire hall.

Remus looks at James then Lily, and upon seeing that they are both very serious, paled with a look of dawning horror and morbid realization. Dumbledore at the staff table looked on with a fake pleased smile on his face, but there was anger in his eyes. No one seemed to notice this, except for young Daphne Greengrass, who narrowed her eyes at Dumbledore, while starting to put the puzzle pieces that she had been gathering all year together. Before the Ministry officials could start arguing about how Sirius was guilty, Harry spoke up.

“Who’s Sirius?” came the innocent inquiry from the eleven year old.

Remus, James, and Lily share winces, as they turn to Harry, and James says, “Sirius Black is one of my best friends, and your godfather.”

No sooner had this been said then another flash of light, and along with our two hosts, the third person to appear was a man with shoulder length black wavy hair and grey eyes. He was wearing casual clothes. Faded blue denim jeans, boots, a dark blue t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket.

“Sirius!” James yells happily, at the same time as Sirius yelled, “James!” with equal enthusiasm.

After they hug, and discreetly wipe away tears, they turn to face the staff table, where they see many wands pointed at them. Namely Sirius.

“Put your wands down! Sirius is innocent! He was not our secret keeper! This, I swear on my life and magic!” James angrily yelled, as he held up his wand and made his vow. The tip of his wand lit up, showing how the vow was accepted.

Little did they know that over at the Gryffindor table, there was a rat that, after having seen James and Lily, and now Sirius show up, he knew that he was in deep shit.

֎֎֎֎֎֎

Back in the unused classroom, the Avengers, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, and a newly caught Loki appear, and after Shadow Lightning and Light Renewer tell them what is going on, and how they are from the future, and they are two years in the past, they both reveal their faces and tell them their names.

After introductions were made, Harry explains what is going on and the basics of what is going to happen, the white light places them in the Great Hall.  
Shortly after the Avengers appeared, Dr. Stephen Strange, Wong, King T'Challa, Princess Shuri, Peter Parker, and Bucky Barnes make an appearance in another flash of light.

"Before any of you ask, the people that we brought with us, are all from the future. Though not all are from the same year." Light Renewer tells the students and staff of the great hall.

"And yes Steve, Bucky here is from the future as well. He didn't die when he fell off the train." Shadow Lightning says to Steve Rogers. 

"Hey Punk." Bucky says as he smiles at Steve.

"Jerk." Steve retorts back. With a smile and tears in his eyes.

As Steve and Bucky hug each other, Shadow Lightning introduces the new group to everyone present.

A gasp is heard throughout the hall. Everyone turns to see it was, and see Harry standing next to James and Lily, mouth a gap, pointing and staring bug eyed at Bucky. 

“You!” Harry yells.

“What?” Steve looks between Bucky and Harry. Bucky looks just as confused as Steve. Nevertheless he searches his memory - what’s left of it anyway - and tries to remember why Harry would react like this. But he gets nothing. It’s like he is trying to grab smoke.

“You’re the bastard from the ice cream truck!” Harry exclaims for all to hear.

“What?” This time it’s not just Steve who has questions. Everyone is confused.

Bucky thinks on what exactly Harry says. Then it is as if a light bulb goes off - more like he got hit with a club - . Bucky looks at Harry, and he remembers. Almost six years ago, during the Winter Soldiers, Summer from Hell.

“I know that you all have questions, but now is not the time. Many of your questions will be answered in the books.” Light Renewer says.

“Before we descend into squabbling children in front of the, well children, let us read the books.” Madame Bones reasons, and stops the fighting before it starts.

“Well put,” Shadow Lightning says, “we have brought with us seven books. Detailing what has happened this past year, and what will happen in the coming years, if something is not done.”

“Now before we start, all of you that we brought here, why don’t you all sit down so we may begin.” Light Renewer calmly says, while pointing at two new tables. One on either side of the staff table. The Avengers, both new and old, sat at the table that is closest to the Slytherins, while everyone else sat at the one closest to the Gryffindor’s.

“Before we start I have to ask Harry something,” James says as he turns to Harry, “please tell me that you love Quidditch, and that you play it.”

“Actually, I’m not really into the game. I don’t really enjoy flying that much.” Harry says after a moment. Before anyone could give him away, he turns his back to her parents, and subtly shakes his head with a small smile on his face and mischief in his eyes.

Never ones to miss out on a bit of mischief, Fred and George chime in, “Yeah we can’t,”

“Even drag-”

“Him to the-”

“Quidditch Pitch.” And they finish together in true Weasley Twin fashion.

“WHAT?! NOOOOOOO!” James and Sirius yell dramatically as they sink to their knees, and start pulling on their hair.

“James, Sirius, calm down. I’m sure it’s just a faze he's going through. That’s all.” Remus comes to their rescue. He soothes and calms them down and gets them to their seats.

"What's Quidditch?" Clint asks.

"Quidditch is only the best game ever. It's played on brooms, 50 feet up in the air," Ron says. He would have continued but he got interrupted by Professor McGonagall.

"Now is not the time." 

No one had noticed the gobsmacked looks on the Avengers faces, thinking, ‘A Stark that doesn’t like to fly? Are pigs flying, had the sky turned green, is the world ending?’

The only one who isn’t completely shocked, is Bucky, who is smirking with a knowing look in his eyes.

As everyone finds and retakes their seats, Professor McGonagall waves her wand at the first of the seven books that had appeared in front of her. The first book then lifted off of the table, to float in the middle of the hall. All of a sudden a voice, that was neither male nor female, filled the hall coming from the book.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Book One. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Chapter one: The Boy Who Lived.

At the title of the book, mutters and whispers broke out among the students.

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

At that Harry lost it. He started laughing so hard, he nearly fell out of his seat.

"Mr. Potter, what is so funny?” Dumbledore asks in his Grandfatherly persona.

“It’s just – them – normal?!” Harry gasps out, in between laughs. When he regains control over himself, and stops laughing, he notices everyone staring at him and he sinks down in his seat.

Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache.

Everyone, especially the girls, cringed at this description.

Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent too much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors.

“Time has not been kind to her, has it?” Snape asks sarcastically lowly under his breath, so no one could hear him. The only ones who heard him, were Steve and Bucky. 

The Dursley’s had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

Harry snorted at this. When people looked questioningly at him, he waved them off and turned back to the book.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn’t think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.

Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley’s sister, but they hadn’t met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn’t have a sister,

“Love you too sis.” Lily Loudly exclaimed sarcastically.

Because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as undursleyish as it was possible to be.

“Why thank you. I take that as a huge compliment.” Lily says.

The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street.

“We should have done that, just to freak them out.” James whispers to his wife.

Lily smirks at James, and nods her fiery redhead at him.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, grey Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.

...

He got into his car and backed out of number four’s drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar - a cat reading a map.

Everyone got curious looks on their faces. Each asking themselves, what a cat has to do with the story.

For a second, Mr. Dursley didn’t realize what he had seen - then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn’t a map in sight.

Everyone got even more curious at this.

What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive – no, looking at the sign; cats couldn’t read maps or sign. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of mind. As he drove towards town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

“Amazing what lengths muggles will go to, to ignore what is right in front of them.” Arthur Weasley chuckled.  
But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn’t help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn’t bear people who dressed in funny clothes – the get-ups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion.

The people who grew up in the wizarding world, sat there wondering what was wrong with their clothes. While those who didn’t, sit there giggling and sending secret amused looks at each other.

They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren’t young at all; why that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt – these people were obviously collecting for something … yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on, and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunning’s car park, his mind back on drills.

Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn’t, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. 

He didn’t see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at night time. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.

“What’s a felephone?” one of the wizarding raised students asked.

“It’s Telephone. I’ll make a list of all the muggle objects in the books, and then at the end of each book, I will explain to you all what they are.” Professor Burbage says   
as she writes down telephone on a piece of parchment, meanwhile the Avengers, mainly Toni, look at that student in horror.

...

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his moustache, thinking … no, he was being stupid.

Harry snorted at this, while those who heard him gave him questioningly looks. Harry just gave them all knowing looks, and pointed at the book.

Potter wasn’t such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son named Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure his nephew was called Harry. He’d never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley, she always got so upset at any mention of her sister.

Lily snorted, and thought to herself, ‘Of course she does, the horrible jealous shrew. Why is the book even focusing on them anyway?’

He didn’t blame her – if he’d had a sister like that … but all the same, those people in cloaks …

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon, and when he left the building at five o’clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

“Sorry,” he grunted, and the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn’t seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passers-by stare.

“Don’t be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even muggles like yourself should be celebrating this happy, happy day!”

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger.

“Trust me, it’ll be the last time.’ Harry muttered.

He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was.

“Quick question. What's a muggle?” Toni asks.

“A muggle is someone who was born without magic.” Surprisingly, it was Loki who said this. 

He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn’t approve of imagination.

“Are you kidding me? I make a living using my imagination!” Toni exclaims in shock and horror.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw – and it didn’t improve his mood – was the tabby cat he’d spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

Everyone who had seen Professor McGonagall transform, looked at her, to find her giving everyone a raised eyebrow. Everyone quickly went back to the book.

“Shoo!” said Mr. Dursley loudly.

The cat didn’t move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior, Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. 

He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door’s problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word (“Won’t”). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, He went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

Professor Burbage wrote down Television.

“And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.” The newscaster allowed himself a grin. “Most mysterious.”

“Why did he say it like that? And why did it say that, ‘he allowed himself a grin.’ What’s that supposed to mean? I mean, is it possible that the newscaster is a wizard?” Hermione asked. And she would have asked more, if Tonks hadn’t started giggling.

When everyone looked at her, she said with a smile on her face, “Sorry, it’s just that, well you're right. That newscaster is my father. Who is a wizard, he has so much fun messing with the muggles.”

“I knew it.” Hermione gloated to herself.

“And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?”

“Well, Ted,” said the weatherman, “I don’t know about that, but it’s not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, there’ve been a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it’s not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Clint says.

Many people in the hall nod along.

Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters …

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He’d have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. “Er – Petunia, dear – you haven’t heard from your sister lately, have you?”

“No. Why on Earth, would I want to talk to HER?” Lily asked quietly to herself.

As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretend she didn’t have a sister.

“No,” she said sharply. “Why?”

“Funny stuff on the news,” Mr. Dursley mumbled. “Owls … shooting stars … and there were a lot of funny looking people in town today …”

“So?” snapped Mrs. Dursley.

“Well, I just thought … maybe … it was something to do with … you know … her crowd.”

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he’d heard the name “Potter.” He decided he didn’t dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, “Their son – he’d be about Dudley’s age now, wouldn’t he?”

“I suppose so,” said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

“What’s his name again? Howard, isn’t it?”

“Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me.”

“Oh, yes,” said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. “Yes, I quite agree.”

“What’s wrong with Harry?” Lily asks.

“Nothing. They're just being Dursley's.” Harry calmly replies to his mom.

He didn’t say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down privet drive as though it were waiting for something.

Everyone, but most of the people who sat at the Avengers table, looked at Minerva questioningly, silently asking why and what she was waiting for.

...

Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn’t so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you’d have thought he’d just popped out of the ground. The cat’s tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man’s name was Albus Dumbledore.

“Albus, what were you doing there?” Steve asked.

Dumbledore didn’t answer, just stared at the book. As if he could get it to do something.

“How do you know Professor Dumbledore?” inquired Hermione.

“The Howling Commandos had teamed up with the Magical Community during WWII. We did it, because Hydra had allied with Gellert Grindelwald. So we were helping each other to take down each other’s enemy.” replied Bucky.

Hermione pulled out a roll of parchment and writing implements and began writing this new information down.

Albus Dumbledore didn’t seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome.

“Yeah, if you had shown up dressed like that, in the middle of the day, in Privet Drive, you would most definitely be shunned and driven out. You would NOT be welcomed.” Harry said while nodding. Harry got a thoughtful look on his face, “In fact, if it’s Dudley and his gang that see you first, or any of the other teenagers like Dudley, you would get your ass kicked.”

He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, “I should have known.”

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again – the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn’t be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn’t look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

“Hm, talking to random animals, a sign of insanity.” A random voice could be heard.

“Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall.”

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

“WHAT!?” Clint yelled with a shocked look on his face, as he looked at McGonagall. Some realized that he was who spoke before.

Professor McGonagall looked at Clint and gave him her Disapproving Professor face, with a raised eyebrow. Clint sank down in his seat.

“How did you know it was me?” she asked.

“My dear Professor, I’ve never seen a cat sit so stiffly.”

There were some snickers throughout the hall that were put to rest shortly afterwards, when McGonagall looked at them.

“You’d be stiff if you’d been sitting on a brick wall all day,” said Professor McGonagall.

“All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here.”

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

“Oh yes, everyone’s celebrating, all right,” she said impatiently. “You’d think they’d be a bit more careful, but no – even the Muggles have noticed something’s going on. It was on their news.” She jerked her head back at the Dursley’s dark living-room window. “I heard it. Flock of owls … shooting stars…. Well, they’re not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something.

“Hey!” All the muggles and muggle-raised people in the room yell, taking offense to that.

Before anything could get out of hand, McGonagall stood, saying, “I was referring to the Dursley’s and everyone like them. Alone. I was not referring to ALL of the Muggles.”

There were murmurs of general acceptances, but there were a few glancing frowns thrown her way.

Shooting stars down in Kent – I’ll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense.”

“It was him.” Came the simple words from Mad-Eye Moody.

“You can’t blame them,” said Dumbledore gently. “We’ve had precious little to celebrate for eleven years.”

“I know that,” said Professor McGonagall irritably, “But that’s no reason to lose our heads.

Not so subtle glances towards Nearly Headless Nick.

People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors.”

McGonagall gave a disapproving sniff.

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn’t so she went on. “A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?”

“It certainly seems so,” said Dumbledore. “We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?”

“A what?” Questioned most of the student population. While those who knew what a lemon drop is, grimaces in disgust. Except of course, Dumbledor.

“A what?"

“A lemon drop. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I’m rather fond of.”

“No, thank you,” said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn’t think this was the moment for lemon drops. “As I say, even if You – Know – Who has gone – “

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his proper name. Voldemort.”

Most of the students, and adults flinched. The only ones who didn’t were the Muggle raised first year students, the Avengers, and Dumbledore. However, if you looked closely enough when the name was said, you would have seen that Natasha Romanoff and Loki had blinked.

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. “It all gets so confusing if we keep saying ‘You – Know – Who.’ I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort’s name.”

“I know you haven’t,” said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. “But you’re different. Everyone knows you’re the only one You – Know – oh, all right, Voldemort, was freighted of.”

"You flatter me,” said Dumbledore calmly. “Voldemort had powers I will never have.”

“Only because you’re too – well – noble to use them."

“It’s lucky it’s dark. I haven’t blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs.”

“TMI Professor. TMI.” a Muggle raised student says.

...

"What they're saying," she presses on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James are - are - that they're - dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…" 

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But - he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone."  
Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's - it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

Many lean forward, in the hopes of finding out for themselves.

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Everyone who had leaned forward, sat back in their seats in disappointment.

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes" said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"WHAT!" screamed all those who knew Petunia Dursley. 

"You left my child with them! In mine and Lily's will, we specifically stated, that if anything were to happen to us, anything at all, that Harry was never, EVER, to go to the Dursley's. There was a long list of people that he should have gone to. The Longbottoms were at the TOP of that list. I would have trusted SNAPE, to care for Harry, LONG before I even THOUGHT of the Dursley's!"

Snape looks at James in shock, with a startled look on his face.

"Really? I wasn't supposed to go to them?" Harry's quiet voice cut through the yelling like a bell tolling. Like a knife, straight to the heart.

James and Lily walk over to Harry, crouch down to her eye level, "No sweetheart. We never wanted you to go there. Ever." Lily says softly.

"Why? Why did he send me there? Why didn't anyone look at your will? Why didn't anyone come for me?" Harry asks, with tears in his eyes.

"We don't know."

James and Lily give Harry a hug.

"Yeah," Sirius says while giving Dumbledore a suspicious look. "Why didn't anyone question you on that?"

While everyone goes back to yelling and arguing, Lily slowly stands up and walks over to Dumbledore. The closer to him she got, the quieter the hall became. Until Lily was standing right next to him, and the great hall was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

Lily grabs the back of his head and smashes it into the table, and walks away, without saying a word.

"It was for the Greater Good." Dumbledore says after he had picked himself back up off the table top.

The whole hall stops. Freezes in place. Lily slowly turns around, and looks as if she is a second away from walking back over there, and beating the living crap out of him. But before she, or anyone else for that matter, could do or say anything, Steve Roger's speaks up.

"Careful Albus. You sound like Grindlewald." Steve says in his Disappointed Captain voice.

Dumbledore blanches, and looks as if someone has simultaneously punched him in the gut, slapped him across the face with a fish.

If someone were to look closely, one would see emotions play across Natasha's face throughout all of this. You would have seen the enraged look on Natasha's face. The smugness when, Lily had acted on her motherly instincts. Then Natasha looked somewhat pleased. However, when Steve spoke up, she looked downright smug.  
All of this was of course , hidden very well, and the only one there who was both close enough and knew her well enough to see all this going on behind a carefully made mask, was Clint Barton. 

Clint gave her a slightly suspicious look out of the corner of his eye. But before he could look more into it, the book started back up.

"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here?" Cried Professor Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come live here!"

Many threw glares and dirty looks at Dumbledore, up at the head table.

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. 

"The best place?" Lily says in a deathly calm voice. "THE BEST PLACE!" Lily exclaimed, quickly losing patience.

"His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written a letter."

"A letter, Albus?" Steve Roger's says in his disappointed Captain America voice.

Dumbledore flinches. He tries, and fails, to hide it.

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. 

"There's no need to repeat us, Professor." Lee Jordan yelled.

"Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future - "

"Hey," Fred said.

"That's a" George continued.

"Brilliant" Fred went on.

"Idea!" They concluded together.

"Please don't." Harry pleaded with them, using his best puppy dog eyes.

"-there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

There were mutters and glances shared amongst everyone. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, Dumbledore had a point.

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course."

"What?! Minerva, don't agree with him!" Shouted Lily.

Professor McGonagall looked down at her lap, before looking back up and saying, “At the time, what he was saying made sense. It sounded logical at the time.”

Lily stared at McGonagall in disapproval for a moment, before focusing her attention at the book. Waiting for it to give them more information.

“But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?” She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

Dumbledore chuckled at this. Only to stop when he noticed that he was getting glares from certain people.

“Hagrid’s bringing him.”

“You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?”

“I would trust Hagrid with my life,”said Dumbledore.

Hagrid puffed out his chest. Proud that anyone would put this much trust in him.

“I’m not saying his heart isn’t in the right place,” said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, “but you can’t pretend he’s not careless. He does tend to - what was that?”

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.”

“HOLD UP! You guys have flying cars?!” surprisingly it wasn’t Toni that had said this, but Peter Parker. “How long have you guys had these?!”

“Uh, that depends. Because we have had flying transportation for centuries, but we’ve had flying carriages since about 1605.” relayed Mr. Weasley.

Steve then slowly turns in his seat to look at Toni, “You know, Howard had promised us flying cars back in 1942, and he never delivered. And yet the Magicals have had flying vehicles for over 400 years. Where are our flying cars?”

“Yeah Toni. Where are our flying cars Toni” Bucky asks.

“Flying Cars! Flying Cars!”

“FLYING CARS! FLYING CARS! FLYING CARS!” The rest of the school have picked up on the chant that was started by Clint, and would have gone on longer, if Snape hadn’t decided enough was enough.

Snape lets out a loud bang from the end of his wand. He stands there and waits for everyone to sit down and shut up, all the while there is a constipated look on his face. “Now. We will continue this ridiculous book, in silence.” He then gave everyone a look, that dared them to make any more noise.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vest, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"Oh, by the way," Sirius said while turning to look at Hagrid. "I'm going to want my motorcycle back."

"Of course, Sirius." Hagrid says, nodding at Sirius.

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where - ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well - give him here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

...

He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. 

...

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"You are the one, who left me, with THEM?" Harry asks with a trembling voice. Not in fear, but in anger.

Everyone turns to Harry, just as the light from the torches begin to waver before they go out all together. The only light in the entire hall, were the two green lights that were Harry's eyes, glaring at Dumbledore. 

The shaking spreads from the tableware to the tables themselves, to the walls and floors. Many look around, fearing that the castle would collapse on top of them.

Hermione, Daphne and Ron seeing this, quickly reach over, and pull Harry into a group hug. Whispering soothing words to Harry. After a few minutes of this, and several deep breaths on Harry's part, the shaking and quaking slowly stop, and the flames come back to the torches.

After a couple more minutes of the adults making sure that Harry was alright, they all get back to the book.

Chapter two, The Vanishing Glass. 

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.

Dudley's birthday - how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

You would have thought that the building exploded, from the yelling and cursing (the non-magical kind). 

James and Lily jumped up and went over to pull Harry into a hug. 

Meanwhile everyone at the Avengers table ranged from horror (Shuri, Peter, T'challa, and Bruce), to disapproving (Dr. Strange), to murderous (everyone else). 

Don't ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blues eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel - Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

Laughter erupts throughout the hall. Fred and George then turn to Harry, and in-between their laughter ask, "Harry,"

"Why can't,"

"You be,"

"This funny,"

"All the time?"

"You guys like to be the funny ones. So I don't want to steal your thunder, so to speak." Harry says. “Plus, I’m not allowed to be myself. I always have to be the silent invisible servant that they expect.”

Fred and George look at each other. Look back at Harry and say, "Mate, you can be as funny,"

"and mischievous as you want."

"Don’t let anyone tell you who you can or can’t be."

Harry smiles at them and then they all turn back to the book.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.

…

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, poplin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have … thirty…"

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

…

Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Winces could be heard throughout the hall. 

Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.

Angry and disgusted mutters chittered around the tables.

On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen's doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

The magical adults and the children that grew up in the Wizarding world, turn and stare at Harry dumbfounded.

Ron then asks, "Mate, you can apparate?" 

Harry looks at him in slight confusion, "What is apparate?"

"Apparating is a spell that allows us to instantly travel short distances. It is basically, magical teleportation." Remus jumps into teacher mode, and helpfully explains to Harry and the other students.

...

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: “MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers snigger.

"I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."

“Harry, if I have any say in the matter, the non-magical community will have flying cars. So don’t worry.” Toni assured Harry.

Cheers went up in the hall once more.  
…

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozer on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

“You’re boring!” yelled various people. It was unclear just who were the ones who had yelled this.

…

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on level with Harry's.

It winked.

Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.

The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look the said quite plainly:

"I get that all the time."

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

“Was it nice there?”

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. “Oh, I see - so you’ve never been to Brazil?”

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. “DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT IT’S DOING!”

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

“Out of the way, you,” he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor’s tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low hissing voice said, “Brazil, here I come.… Thanksss, amigo.”

“You’re a parselmouth?” Ron asked, amid whispering and muttering that had erupted around the hall.

“What's a parselmouth?” Harry asked back, looking on in confusion.

“Parselmouth, you know, snake language?” Ron said. Looking slightly freaked out.

“Parselmouth? How can I speak a language, without knowing it? Besides, I’m sure that plenty of people can do that too.” says Harry.

“No Harry, people can’t. Parselmouth is seen as a very dark and rare ability, because Salazar Slytherin could speak to snakes.” Professor McGonagoll explains.

“Well, thats stupid. Why would that ability be seen as dark all because one man had that same ability?” Shuri asks. And can you blame her? It really is a stupid reason.

Before anyone could come up with a suitable reason, the book started up again.

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, “Go - cupboard - stay - no meals,” before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Madame Bones said loudly, standing up so everyone can see her as well, “I have made a decision. I have decided that as soon as we are finished with the books, I will be leading a full investigation on the Dursleys, and that Harry Potter will never go within 10 miles of them ever again.”

This was met with loud cheering. Harry himself sat, shocked, amid all of this cheering. Part of him wants to believe that she will actually do this, that he will never have to go back. But, a small nasty voice, in the back of his head, whispers that it's all a trick, a cruel joke. That she won't help. Just like all the others who promised to help, never helped.

As the cheering and all the noise died down, Harry asked in a small voice, “Really? I won’t ever have to go back?”

When Harry asked this, it just about broke almost every single heart in there. The only one who wasn’t supporting Harry in this, was Dumbledore. He looked on, with anger in his eyes. This is something that Bucky and Daphne noticed. 

Dumbledore had subtly taken his wand out of his wand holster, and he was about to raise it, when Shadow Lightning appeared, and had summoned Dumbledore’s wand into her hand. 

“We told you Dumbles, no offensive magic allowed.” The female voice spoke from within the cloak.

“Albus?!” McGonagall gasps.

“Albus, who were you going to attack?” Mad Eye grumbles.

Dumbledore doesn’t say anything. He just glares at the cloaked figure.

“Everyone. He was going to try to restrain everyone, and then attempt to rewrite your memories.” Light Renewer says.

The furious growl was audible to everyone. People looked to where the noise was coming from, to see that Bucky was the one who’s growling.

“Bucky?” Steve asks his friend in concern.

Bucky shakes his head, stops growling and tells his friend, “Later.” All the while glaring up at Dumbledore.

“Until the end of the reading, I shall be holding onto this.” said Shadow Lightning holding up the Elder wand.

“Albus. I hereby, place you under arrest. You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say, may be given in evidence.” Madame Bones reads him his rights, while the aurors on hand, march over to him and spell chains to appear on Dumbledore. “ We will be taking you to the Ministry, to a holding cell after we have finished these books.”

After having done this, and the aurors made sure that Dumbles wasn’t going anywhere, while having to listen to everyone begin to cheer again, the book resumed where it left off.

He’d lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he’d been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn’t remember being in the car when his parents had died.

“That's because there was no car crash!” A Hufflepuff student yelled.

“I didn’t know that at the time. I do know now though.” says Harry.

Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn’t imagine where all the green light came from.

Everyone looks at Harry, with horror and sadness, and a little bit of curiosity from some. 

“Harry, you remember that night?” Lily asks with worry and sadness coloring her words.

“A little bit.” Harry replies. Looking down at his plate.


End file.
